


Taken

by Huggle



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Attempted Sexual Assault, Comforting Sam Winchester, Hurt Castiel, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapped Castiel, M/M, Protective Sam Winchester, Restraints, Sam Winchester Speaks Enochian, Sam to the Rescue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-18
Updated: 2017-07-18
Packaged: 2018-12-03 22:45:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11541978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Huggle/pseuds/Huggle
Summary: Whoever took Cas, Sam knows the angel's in trouble and needs a rescue.  The question is, will he get there in time?





	Taken

Castiel hears a door open directly ahead. Rough hands grab his shoulders and steer him through it. He tries to yank away, but with the hood over his head, and his hands still cuffed, where would he go? He’s helpless, for now, and so has little choice but to let them do as they will.

For now, anyway.

When the hands withdraw, the hood is also torn from his head. He blinks against the sharp light that fills the room, but spins to face his captors.

As he expected, they’re human – even denied his vision, he knew. He could hear their heartbeats and sense their souls – blackened as they are. But humans with knowledge, hence the cuffs he can’t break, and the hood he couldn’t see through and the symbols etched high in the walls of the room.

“What do you want?” he demands.

The tallest of the men – thin, almost gaunt – stares at him in a manner that unsettles him. He stands his ground though.

“You’re find out soon enough,” he says. “Very soon.”

He, and the other two men, retreat, and the door closes behind them.

Though he has no expectations of escape – not so soon, at any rate, Cas explores his prison. There are no windows. There is no furniture, except the bed in the middle of the room. It’s quite large by the standards he’s used to, but then all he knows of accommodation is what he’s learned from being around the Winchesters, and the months he spent human and homeless and sleeping where he could.

All the same, he senses a purpose in a room with nothing else in it but one very large bed covered with sheets of silk, not cotton. With a door he can’t pass through – he tries, but the handle feels almost greased, and when he tries to grip it his hand seems to slide off before he can try to turn it.

No, there is nothing good about this place…at least not for him.

He wonders at the human’s definition of soon when after fifteen minutes he’s still standing there alone. Out of frustration more than anything else, he sits down on the bed and sinks a little into its softness. 

Definitely not typical of the type of bed Sam and Dean sleep in, or the one in his own room at the bunker.

That’s when the door opens.

**

Not so brave now, Sam thinks, as the thin man backpedals desperately away from him. He’s wheezing, air flowing tightly through his broken nose. With the blood streaming down his upper lip, his expression is ghastly.

Certainly different from the haughty smug look he’d worn as he’d driven away with their angel, leaving Sam trying to pick himself up off the ground.

“It’s business,” he sputtered. He coughs and spits up a bloody gob on the floor at Sam’s feet. “Just business, I swear to fuck, it wasn’t personal.”

Sam advances, his pace suggesting a calmness he doesn’t feel. Two hours again, this bastard led a crew that ambushed them and took Cas. It was kidnap to order, Sam knows it - he just doesn’t know why. But right now that isn’t important. Only one thing is.

“Where is he?”

He can see the guy’s thinking about stalling, lying. Maybe trying to bargain. Sam crouches down, and slips his demon killing knife from its sheath. Oh, this piece of shit isn’t a demon, but a knife is a knife. He watches the guy’s eyes widen as they travel the length of the blade and then shift to meet Sam’s.

He can tell straight away Sam means everything he isn’t saying, and then it’s just a case of getting him to stop crying long enough to give up what Sam needs to know.

**

Cas fights. He fights as he’s shoved back onto the bed. He fights as his cuffed hands are forced up and pinned above his head. He struggles and kicks as a body stretches out across his own, and hands touch him roughly where they have no place touching him at all.

His cry of protest is swallowed by the mouth that covers his, and in that instant Cas realises he can fight as hard as he can for as long as he can, but in the end it won’t matter at all.

He bites anyway at the tongue that slips past his lips and his reward is a snarled curse and then enough pain that even though he doesn’t need to breathe, he can’t. His body goes taut, locked up tight, and through it he can hear the voice that spits Enochian at him with enough venom it practically drips onto to his skin.

When the weight is lifted, his body is still so tense he doesn’t realise it at first. On some level, he’s aware of the sounds nearby – grunting, cursing, something heavy thudding to the floor. But he hurts enough that all his focus is on that, the agony running through his human body and his true form, and it feels like both are about to be rent apart. 

That’s when he hears the voice. It’s different from the first, but the language is the same. The words aren’t. Each soft lilting syllable is like a gentle touch, drawing the tension from his body, easing the torture inflicted on him. A hand cups the back of his neck, drawing him up as another carefully takes hold of his wrists and lowers them to rest against his chest.

“It’s ok, Cas,” he hears, still in his own tongue. His vision starts to respond, allowing him to focus on the person holding him. Sam Winchester stares down at him, eyes wide with concern and anger. One is for him, he knows, and he suspects the person now unconscious or dead on the floor is the target of the other.

“Sam,” he whispers. His throat hurts; speaking is like small particles of glass are embedded in the sensitive flesh, grinding when he tries to form words. 

“Sssh.” Sam hugs him a little tighter. He speaks again, and the cuffs click open and fall away. “I got you, Cas. I’m here. Let’s get you home.”


End file.
